


Contrast in Strokes, But the Painting is Brilliant

by jetblacklilac



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, They Have Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 21:46:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18668998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetblacklilac/pseuds/jetblacklilac
Summary: A question is asked; as shocking and puzzling as it is in nature. But isn't love as confusing as it is pleasing?





	Contrast in Strokes, But the Painting is Brilliant

It is an unconventionally serene evening.

Sansa is seated on the living room sofa, legs crossed, and relaxed as she reads through her book. In front of them is the sleet bricked fireplace with gentle flames cracking and popping the wood blocks almost a calming music to improve one’s mood.

“The queen is the most important piece in chess, okay princess? And that goes the same to Mommy, she’s the queen.”

A smile twitches on her mouth as she hears Theon teach their daughter chess. Though Alys is only six, she has already shown an eagerness for the game and perhaps it is because she sees her parents bicker during their games. An even more reasonable reason is that Theon loves the game and she’s a shadow of her father. She peeks over at the top of her book and her heart is a puddle in her ribs at the scene.

An on-going chess game is happening; the board is situated atop the carved and artistically bent coffee table. A girl with her chocolate locks braided down her back, dressed in pyjamas, and smiles with dimples like her father. Her husband wears _matching_ pyjamas with his daughter, but in its blue while hers is in pink. The design is all the same of tress and clouds and little farm animals dancing around the shirt down to the bottoms.

“Theon, stop lying to her.” She reprimands her, eyes darting down to the same paragraph she has been reading in the last fifteen minutes. How can one concentrate when there is such a lovely view not so far from her?

Theon’ face is wrapped in farce concern. “Lie to my little princess? Why, I would never! It is true that you’re my queen.” He scoffs, moving his bishop and takes a pawn from Alys.

“So this,” Alys lifts the queen piece from its position and waves it in the air. “is made because of you, mummy?” The question was so naïve that it matches the childish glitter in her blue eyes.

Sansa subtly glowered at Theon who winked in return and drank his warm cup of tea. She made an answer but someone taps her shoulder. “Yes, dear?” She says to her son, standing at the arm of the sofa with fidgeting hands.

“Can I go to my room now, mum? I have to do my homework.” Robb says. Some have remarked he inherited her looks, of auburn curls, brilliant azure blue eyes, and a solemn nature. And she agrees because he is more behaved than her daughter, who unfortunately got her attitude _and_ looks from Theon; a chaotic duo.

Sansa runs her hand through his unruly locks. He must have a haircut, she thinks for she has seen him constantly brush it away from his eyes.  “Of course, Robb. But I’ll give you a goodnight kiss later, okay love?” She says and pats his cheek.

The silence stretches on, she nearly finishes the book only for a shout to pop the bubble of tranquillity.

“Aha, I win!” Alys shrieks in glee and starts to jump up and down, wiggling her hips and her little fists in the air.

Theon claps his hands and stood up, embracing her and carrying her off the floor, much to Aly’s delight. He threw her in the air and they both laughed. “That’s my girl! You’re so smart! Where did you get that, huh?” He jokingly demanded, pressing kisses all over her face with a prideful beam.

“I got it from you and mummy!” The little girl exclaimed in glee as her arms are wrapped on his neck and she too pressed a kiss on his cheek. “So, thank you!”

Sansa stood up, pressing a bookmark on the near ending, and walks up to them. “You two are too smart for your own good.” She fondly says. “But, it is late. Darling would you mind tucking in this little winner in her bed?” She requests with an arched brow.

He nods. “Of course a winner has to sleep some time. I’ll see you in our bed, my love.” He reminds her and she ignores the wicked intent laced with his words or the blush spreading along the highs of her cheek.

She visits her son, head bent down on his study desk and his feet swinging. Knocking on the door didn’t seem to rouse the child and even calling his name. So, she enters his room and repeats the knock with a firm call of his name.

“Robb.”

The boy jumps in surprise. He whirls around on his chair and sees Sansa. “Mother, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Sansa sits at the edge of his bed, decorated in colourful space theme with tiny planets dotting on his sheets. “You should be in bed. It’s late.” She reminds him and patting his blanket.

“Mum, are you and dad getting a divorce?”

 The genuine concern scrunching up his face startled her as much as the question itself. Sansa frowned, giving herself a few moments to construct an answer. “Darling, of course not, your dad and I are happy together. Why do you ask that?” She asks and urges him to sit by her side and the boy obeys.

His shoulders slumped. “Be-because you always fight… Father likes football and fast foods and action movies. You like soft music, ballet, and books. You’re too different for each other.” He mourns and shakes his head. He stares at her with watery eyes, the blue in his eyes became so light it’s almost pastel blue now.

Sansa hides the pained winced. She combs his curls with her fingers in a way that calms him down. “Yes, we always fight but we _always_ love each other too. Sometimes we fight because of love.”

“That’s what Ricky said his parents do. He told me they always fight.” Robb insisted with a stubborn rebuttal, set on the grieving tone that breaks her heart. “But you won’t get a divorce right? I like you and Father together.”

She feels her heart break even more. Richard’s parents, as she has heard from other parents, are getting a divorce. “We are _not_ getting a divorce, Robb. Sometimes people can love each other even when they like different things! Yes, I don’t agree with your father all the time but I love him. It is called a compromise. You both have to adjust so you won’t have to fight with them all night long.” She glances at him and her son nods in understanding. “Your father likes take out from fast foods and I like to cook for my family so we tend to disagree on what to eat. We decided to assign days when he can buy and when I can cook. Though most of the time, your father and I cook for you and your sister, I still allow him to indulge himself in giving you pizza and such.”

“Now you don’t fight about what to eat then.” Robb caught on with a beam. He now doesn’t seem stressed out of the non-existent possibility of their divorce. “I’m glad, Mum. I love you both so much.” He pressed closer and kisses her cheek.

“And I love you too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> in light of the recent episode, i'm writing soft theonsa bc they are soft in my heart.


End file.
